Events in Lordran
by BirdsSoul
Summary: Crossover tale: Dark Souls, John & Sherlock from the BBC series, Lon'qu from Fire Emblem Awakening & two OCs: Sofia & Emma. Friendship, Romance and battles to the death entail. Third in the collaborative series: 'Digipath'. The first story, set in Fire Emblem, is being written by Jay5312. My DeivantArt is called Elda-Fire and you can see drawings of the characters there :)
1. Escaping the Asylum

**Chapter One: ****Escaping the Asylum**

The torches illuminating the stone corridors of the Asylum flickered, highlighting the faces of lonely undead who had given up all hope of freedom. Other captives pounded on their prison cell doors, screaming for leave, under the false impression that this would aid their chances. Yet there was hope for some – five in fact – who inhabited the cell at the very end of the corridor.

"Do not fear," assured a young girl whilst getting to her feet, "A knight will provide us with the key to our cell soon." She gestured towards the ceiling, where a large tile had been previously removed. Natural sunlight poured in, highlighting the others' confused expressions.

"How can you be so sure?" asked a blonde man, his warrior armour rattling as he stood up.

"Sofia and I have played Dark Souls before...we just hope that this knowledge helps us get through the game in one piece," responded another girl.

As if on cue, a figure dropped an undead from the gap in the ceiling. The knight watched it hit the ground, nodded to Sofia when it impacted, and left silently. She approached the hollow, her eyes focused intently on the white orb hovering over its skinny pink body.

"This is its soul," she explained, kneeling beside it. "Sometimes items important to those who have died attach themselves to their soul – in this case it's the Dungeon Cell Key. We can pillage these souls and take their items." She put her hand into the white mist and took out a key, causing the soul to disappear.

"Brilliant!" exclaimed the warrior, looking at the key in awe. Sofia smiled at his reaction and walked over to the cage door, eager to leave the small room. She put the iron key into the rusty lock, which took a little force to turn, but soon opened out into the corridor. They stepped out the door, surveying the area for guards.

"Ugh...what it is that thing?" gagged the wanderer, Lon'qu, pointing to the right at an area behind bars.

"It looks powerful. I'm certain that club could break our bones with one swing," guessed a curly haired man, who didn't seem frightened of the beast, regardless of his statement.

"Shhh, you'll attract its attention!" whispered the second girl, her thief instincts coming into play, "Just ignore it and sneak past."

They continued up the corridor, avoiding the weeping undead as they did so. After a while they reached a tall ladder, which led them up to a small courtyard. The smell of fresh air was a wonderful relief to all of them. After they stretched their legs and enjoyed the atmosphere, they approached a large door leading to a large building. The door appeared to be heavy so all of them helped push it open, apart from the curly haired man named Sherlock, who claimed that he preferred to watch.

Silence pierced the cathedral-like room as the five humans entered. Surrounding them where high pillars and tall, yet fragile, vases. The thief, Emma, held her arm out to block her companion's paths and quickly examined the room. To the far left appeared to be a caged, locked door. To the north was a small semi-circular ledge and a door leading to an outside balcony. Doubtfully, she started edging towards the centre of the room. Engraved on the ground was a glowing red sign. She stared at it for a moment, attempting to identify it.

"It's a message," she called back to the others. "Remain there, I'll read it out." She crouched down besides the crimson sign – the only way to read them was to activate them through touch as they only responded to the flesh of humans and hollows.

–-"Get away!"–-

"Shit, run for the door!" Emma bolted to the left exit as a huge, fat, ugly beast soared from the skies. Its impact earth-quaked the ground and threw the rest of the travellers forwards as they forced their legs to sprint. The monster swung its hammer haphazardly in their direction – fortunately missing their bodies – but smashing most of the vases. As soon as Sherlocks' loincloth passed the gate, the portcullis fell again, locking the beast out. Its roars echoed down the damp corridor and gradually tapered off into the background as they ran down the stairs.

"That was that beast we saw earlier, wasn't it?!" Exclaimed the warrior, John, who was clearly in shock, "What is it?!"

"It's the Asylum Demon," explained Sofia solemnly. "It's not its name that should concern us though…"

"…It's how to defeat it." Finished Emma, nodding at her friend.

"Indeed," agreed Lon'qu as he motioned the rest of the group towards the unlit bonfire near them. "Sofia... would you do the honours?"

Sofia approached the bonfire, shut her eyes in concentration, and laid her right hand on the bonfire. A few seconds past as John and Sherlock raised their eyebrows at each other. Sparks burst out of her palms abruptly, surprising John, who took a large step back as he watched in amazement. The orange flames danced like snakes on her fingers and enveloped the sword, setting fire to it. "Done," she said smiling. "This bonfire is our rendezvous, as it were. Whenever we die, we respawn at the last bonfire rested at."

"Well, that's convenient..." said John quietly, swallowing hard. "Death is something I aim to avoid."

"We need to be careful from now on," added Emma. "Dying causes us to drop all the souls we collect from our fallen enemies. Individually, that is. For example, if I had 1000 souls and you had 2 souls and you died, you would only drop your 2 souls. I would still have mine," she sneered.

Sofia shifted uncomfortably, "it's not the end of the world though, John. When you drop your souls – however many you have – they remain where you were last killed. All you have to do is travel back to that location and recover them." John didn't seem very reassured, as the thought of death was still on his mind.

"Let me guess...Dying for a second time has a negative effect on those dropped souls. Perhaps they disappear permanently, never to be recovered?" deducted Sherlock thoughtfully.

"Unfortunately you are correct," replied Sofia.

"What's unfortunate? The fact that I am correct or that the fact that I made was correct?" smiled Sherlock sarcastically.

"...both," responded Sofia, turning away from Sherlock the deprived.

Lon'qu cleared his throat to break the silence. "I think we should rest and then press on... I don't like the atmosphere of these dungeons."

"I agree," admitted Emma, sitting down besides the lit fire. Sofia quickly joined her, as did John and Lon'qu. Sherlock on the other hand remained standing, examining the room and its dark stone walls.

"Won't you join us Sherlock?" John inquired, hoping to avoid any form of argument.

"I refuse to let my guard down and I certainly will not rest in an unknown environment in which I know little about. I aim to change that."

John smiled at Sofia apologetically. Sofia shook her head, relieving him of his apology.

"Sherlock, you do realise that when we rest at a bonfire, enemies can't attack us, right?" Sofia explained. "Any way, how about we move on?"

At this point, all they had was their armour (or in Sherlock's case, his loincloth) for protection and 5 Straight sword hilts, which frankly did very little damage.

"As Emma and I are aware of what's coming, I suggest we lead. John, stick behind me, then Lon'qu and finally... Sherlock," advised Sofia as they gathered.

"Lead the way," smiled John.

"To our left will be a long corridor of broken asylum cells. At the very end will be a hollow brandishing a pathetically weak bow, although at this stage, I guess we're all pretty weak also." Emma stated. "However if we take another left near the entrance, we will find a weapon and a shield for all of us, depending on our class."

"Ok... let's get this over with," replied Lon'qu as he peered round the corner of the door. An arrow whistled past his ear immediately, causing him to fall backwards in surprise. Emma offered him a hand and he hesitantly accepted it, dusting himself off embarrassedly as he got to his feet.

Sofia laughed and shook her head, "Follow my lead." She sprinted into the corridor and barrel rolled to the left, narrowly dodging an arrow, before entering the side room Emma spoke of. "It's not that far," she called to the others as she searched for her own equipment. Emma soon followed, cart-wheeling her way gracefully to the loot; possessing the light armour of a thief has its benefits. John followed in his warrior armour, which of course was much heavier, and as a consequence some of the undead's arrows lodged themselves into his breastplate. Sherlock, being the least equipped of the entire group, should have ran the fastest. Yet, due to his lack of fear of the archer, took his time getting there, showing off his dodging spins as he did so.

"As a pyromancer, I am best suited for this Hand Axe and this rather cracked Round Shield," explained Sofia whilst rummaging through the equipment hoard. "Emma, here is your Bandit's Knife and Target Shield. Lon'qu, as a member of the wanderer class you begin with the leather shield and Scimitar." Emma looked longingly at the curved sword as Sofia passed it into Lon'qu's hands. "Um, John... this Long sword and heater shield is yours. That shield can protect you against 100% damage, so use it copiously. Finally, Sherlock." She passed him the only equipment left: A wooden Club and a Plank Shield.

He paused momentarily, "What is this barbaric weaponry?" Emma lowered her head quickly to conceal her laughter but he saw her nonetheless. "No matter. I'm certain that I can deal more damage to our foes with this...primitive set of equipment... than the rest of you put together." He confirmed gloatingly. "I suggest we continue, before our enemies find us first."

Sofia sighed, a little irritated at the idea of taking orders from Sherlock, "Let's move on." She was intent on having the last word. "Emma...put that undead out for good," she smirked. Emma winked back at her mischievously and run into the corridor without a word. The others gathered and simultaneously peered around the corner in anticipation, as Emma sprinted towards the unexpecting archer, dodging his shots fluently. Once she was in range she used her small shield to bash his bow out of his grasp, stunting him for a second. She seized the opening, stabbing him straight in the heart with her dagger, finishing flawlessly with a kick and a wiping of its blood on her sleeve. "Finished," Emma turned proudly to face them. "Coast is clear," she called over as Sofia led them to her. The pyromancer prodded the undead with her foot, "Yup, he's definitely out for good."

Sofia continued up a flight of stairs to their left, stopping at a white mist blocking the way to the next area. "We must transverse the white light from here – sometimes bosses lurk behind them, but not behind this one." Passing through the mist was like walking through a cloud – it disappeared as soon as they had all entered.

"Hmm, so we're on the balcony of the cathedral, where that beast was," Lon'qu observed as he approached the ledge, "...wait a minute, where did it go? It's not there anymore!"

"It tends to do that," stated Emma darkly. John and Lon'qu shivered at the prospect of such a huge creature being able to disappear without a trace. Sofia led them down the path on the right and pointed at a set of stairs to their immediate left.

"At the very top of these stairs is a rather malicious undead. As soon as I climb up about halfway, he will throw down a huge cannonball in the hopes that he will kill me. I won't let him have that satisfaction. Now, all of you hide down the passageway so that it doesn't hit you instead." With that she ran up the steps, her dark grey-blue robes flowing behind her. Timing a perfect roll to the right allowed her to dodge the incoming sphere of metal and land on another flight of stairs to the right. Emma's applaud welcomed her back as she jogged over, bowing gracefully once she was beside them. All looked impressed apart from Sherlock, but that was to be expected – he was only ever impressed by his own achievements.

Instead he turned his attention to the huge crack in the brick wall behind them, caused by the cannonball's impact. "I wonder where this leads..." he murmured to himself curiously, forgetting the others' existence and proceeding inside, "Ah, a human!" This caught everyone's attention and they soon found themselves inside a small brick room, staring down at a man in knight armour. Sofia recognised him as the knight who helped them escape. He didn't seem to be in very good shape though and was sitting holding his stomach on the floor. She crouched down to face him, hoping to comfort him.

"Oh...you five...you're not hollow, eh?...Thank goodness..." he coughed, peering up at them. "I'm done for, I'm afraid."

"Wait, don't say that! I'm a doctor, let me help you," said John urgently.

"Thank you...but I'll die soon, then lose my sanity...there is little you can do in terms of saving me. Yet, I wish to ask something of you...You and I, we're all undead...Hear me out will you?"

"Of course!" replied Sofia instantly, hoping to find a way to repay the knight for his favour.

"Regrettably, I have failed in my mission...but perhaps you can all keep the torch lit...There is an old saying in my family...Thou who art undead, art chosen...In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of Ancient Lords...When thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening, the fate of the Undead thou shalt know."

"I don't understand-" started John, but Sofia quickly interrupted him. "Of course, sir knight. We wish to repay you for your gracious act of saving us from our Asylum cell, in any way possible. Thank you dearly." John nodded in agreement, smiling at their saviour in appreciation.

"...Well, now you know...and I can die with hope in my heart...Oh, one more thing...Here, take these..." He passed 5 green bottles to Sofia, each filled with a glowing orange liquid. "Estus Flasks, Undead favourites. Oh...and this..." From his satchel he took out a key and gave it to John, who was now crouched down next to Sofia, "It's the Key to the second floor..."

"Thank you, Knight," imparted Emma, thinking it was about time she expressed her gratitude. Lon'qu also thanked him, but Sherlock simply observed the knight's armour in silence.

"...Now I must bid you farewell...I would hate to harm you after death...So, go now... and thank you." He turned his face away from them as his life left him. Out of respect, John shut the knight's eye lids and nodded to the others, as a sign suggesting their departing.

Once they were outside, Sherlock mumbled to himself, "Now that he's gone, surely I could put his armour to good use. He's hardy going to need it any more..."

"Sherlock!" screamed John and Sofia simultaneously.

"What? Oh, it's disrespectful? Hmph, fine...but if I die due to a lack of equipment, I blame you both."

Emma ignored their confrontation and started walking up the steps to the undead, expecting the others to follow her. The sounds of pain alerted them to her disappearance and the source of the screams was soon made evident when a pink corpse rolled down the stairs.

"Are you coming, or what?" she asked, a little irritated. Sofia nodded wearily, aware of Emma's power, even at this stage. The two were best friends but making her angry was never a good idea; especially to living creatures that weren't allied with her. They exited onto a balcony harbouring three undead: two dagger wielders and an archer.

"John, focus on the bow wielder!" commanded Sofia, "Lon'qu, stab the one on the left…Sherlock prove your worth to that weakling on the right. Emma…er...you know what to do…" Sofia was suggesting the thief's signature parry and riposte move, but that wasn't quite what she witnessed. Instead, Emma sneaked around the oblivious hollow, who was staring attentively at Lon'qu's weapon. She pounced onto his back, slicing his throat with her knife before he toppled to the ground. Sofia opened her mouth to comment on this brutal attack form but was interrupted by a deep uncivilised sound. Turning to investigate she discovered it was Sherlock.

"Face my club, you sickly excuse for a soul bearer!" he yelled charging at the frightened undead, who dropped his weapon and ran for his life. John was just returning from his triumphant battle when Sherlock's prey knocked him off his feet in its panic. He just managed to catch a glimpse of it soaring off the balcony in an attempted suicide when Sofia helped him recover his balance.

"Thanks," he smiled shyly at her.

"No problem," she replied happily, taking the liberty of dusting down his armour.

"I...Er...well...he's gone...the archer, I mean...not the other Undead...although it looks like he's also gone...ha..." he stammered, a little embarrassed at his loss of words.

"I'm sorry, I missed the fight," she sighed apologetically, "I was distracted by Emma and Sherlocks' unique fighting techniques...they really are something," she continued awkwardly. "Anyway... I'm just glad you're all right, John." she felt her cheeks blush as she uttered his name. "I...better check on the others..."

John watched her shuffle back to Emma, his heart beat slowing down as she left him. Weirdly, he felt lonely when he wasn't in her presence, but he shook away the thought, deciding that they had more pressing matters to attend to. They were soon gathered together, assessing their progress thus far.

"We have 5 Estus Flasks in total," informed Emma. "They restore a portion of the drinker's health, allowing them to last longer in a battle. John, you look a little worn out; drink one."

He glanced briefly at Sofia, feeling a little guilty at the idea of using up one of their precious resources.

"I'll be fine," he insisted, pushing the flask back into Emma's hand. She studied his expression for a second, and then continued with her briefing, "At this point, we have enough flasks for one each."

"Of course, if a person has already used up their flask, but is in desperate need of another, someone can always sacrifice theirs to aid him...uh...them," Sofia added quickly, catching John's eye.

"Right," agreed Emma. "As you can see, behind me is another white mist wall. It leads to a very small balcony in the cathedral. The Asylum Demon will be beneath us when we transverse it…"

"Of course he had to re-appear…" grumbled Lon'qu to himself.

Emma sighed, deciding it was about time to tell them all a hard truth. "This game is not a fair one," she began. "The bosses inhabiting Lordran will chew you up and spit you out over and over again, killing you brutally at every turn, unless we all work together to wipe them out. They may be extremely difficult or frustrating or appear to have crawled out of the depths of hell, but they don't re-spawn after they're defeated. Now the Asylum Demon is the weakest of all the bosses. That's not to say that he isn't a pain in the arse, mind you. We must devise a strategy to eliminate him; remember it's five against one." She examined the group to see whether they understood. "Good," she confirmed. "Now, as I was saying previously, the Asylum Demon will be beneath us when we transverse the mist. What I am proposing is that Lon'qu, John and I perform a plunge attack on it using our weapons…"

"What's wrong with my weapon?" blurted out Sherlock, obviously offended.

"Sherlock, physics. Think about it," explained Sofia bluntly.

He stared at his wooden club, refusing to accept the implications. "I will make it work," he whispered forebodingly.

"Whatever you say," retorted Emma, rolling her eyes. "Moving on…Sofia, once we've performed the plunge attack, I suggest you get your pyromancy flame at hand and remain on the ledge, firing fire balls from above. After three-"

"Four," corrected Sherlock.

"…three successful plunge attacks," continued Emma, "and a rain of fire, he should perish."

"Sounds like a plan. I'm ready," indicated Lon'qu, unsheathing his scimitar. John and Sofia nodded in agreement. Sherlock shook his head in disagreement. They lined up at the mist, Sherlock pushing to the front, brandishing his club.

Emma held her head up high, shaking her dark blonde hair out of her face. "On the count of three; we need the element of surprise for this to work. One…Two—" Sherlock roared forwards, disappearing into the mist, "Three," she sighed.

A squelch, followed by a disgruntled snort vibrated the glass windows as they entered. Below the semi-circular ledge was an odd sight: Sherlock gripping the end of his club, which was lodged deeply into one of the demon's eyes. It was evident that he couldn't last in this position for long, especially as his loincloth had started falling. Realising this fact he dropped to the ground and admired his achievement for a split second before being whacked by the beast's own club. The collision sent him flying into the vases and the sound of his impact concealed John's gasp. This woke the dazed observers who remembered that they weren't there to watch.

A dark shadow loomed over them. Unfortunately it was too late to execute their plan as their ledge no longer existed. The monster had soared above them whilst they were distracted and obliterated their platform with his fat weapon, hurtling them towards the stone floor. Sofia managed to grab John's hand and guide him into a roll as they landed. Lon'qu attempted to counter-attack, but missed completely due to the searing pain in his left shoulder, causing him to tumble to the ground. Luckily the fall wasn't great, so it did him little damage. However his shoulder was bleeding rapidly. He bit his lip as he stumbled for his Estus flask, his arms weakening from the pain.

"Em…Emma…." He strained, his vision failing. He could make out blurred shapes, but they were moving too quickly for him to concentrate on them. A robed figure…Sofia, next to…John? Too far…too far away. They hadn't noticed him. "Emm…" his head dropped back as he crumpled onto the hard, cold floor. Black.

A touch. A soft touch rejuvenated him. Warm hands propped him up and kind whispers filled his ears. Then a sweet juice met his tongue. Immediately, as if by magic, strength filled his being and the pain in his shoulder vanished. He opened his eyes and blinked the bright light out as he focused on his surroundings. Emma was smiling down at him and Sofia and John knelt next to her. Even Sherlock was watching him.

"I…thank you," he said earnestly, observing his healed shoulder. "Wait! The beast! The-"

"Shhh….Don't worry about it," comforted Emma, "It's been taken care of."

He searched the room for its corpse but instead found its limbs burnt black and neatly stuffed into the remaining vases.

"Wow," he breathed, laughing a little at their creativity, "Impressive." With Emma's help he got to his feet and stretched out his perfectly healed limbs. Surveying the others he noticed only minor scratches and bruises, nothing major. Sherlock was spotless – he must have also been healed, he thought.

"How do you feel?" asked Sofia, studying his shoulder.

"Fantastic," he grinned. "So...where's the exit?"

"Just through those doors."

They all eagerly prised the doors apart, hoping to rid themselves of the asylum as soon as possible. The blinding sun shone splendidly as they stepped out onto a cliff ledge. Pale stone bricks littered the area around small patches of grass which sprouted here and there on the ground. Sherlock studied the rigidity of the cliff whilst the others admired the glorious view. Below were lakes and mountains and cliffs and forests; wonders that awaited them. They strolled to the tip of the cliff, taking in the sight.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" said Sofia suddenly. "Do not be alarmed, but our mode of transport to Lordran is a-"

A mass of black feathers burst into view and sharp talons gently surrounded Sofia, lifting her ever so slightly. Sofia grabbed John's hand who simultaneously grabbed Sherlock's loincloth. Disgusted at his impulse he let go and instead found Sherlock's curly locks. Sherlock grunted in disapproval, but held on to John's legs tightly, so as not to fall to his death. Meanwhile Emma and Lon'qu had comfortably secured themselves onto the crow's other foot and before long they were all soaring over the beauty that they had been admiring just moments ago.

To Lordran, dear travellers. May you follow your fate and fulfil your destiny.


	2. Respite

**Chapter Two: Respite**

The crow dived down upon spotting its destination, forcing its passengers to strengthen their grip on it, so as not to plummet to their death. The dark bird descended gracefully and released its riders onto a grass covered cliff. As soon as she had reclaimed her balance, Sofia stroked the giant crow's head, to thank it for its trouble. It crowed with delight and nuzzled her gently, before flying up to its nest on the ruins to their left. It stared at them intently, cocking its head side to side to focus its beady eyes on them. It soon got bored and began to preen its feathers.

John stumbled towards the unlit bonfire, feeling a little queasy after the fast flight. The female pyromancer spotted his trouble and made haste to light it, so that he could recover. The warmth was a pleasant comfort to all members of the party and they had soon crowded around the flickering flames to discuss what they were going to do next. Even the crow eyed the fire with envy, so Sofia called him down to share in the respite.

"It's getting dark," noted Emma as she gazed up at the sky. "I think it may be a good idea to rest at this bonfire for the night."

"But what if someone attempts to attack us? Should we take it in turns to guard?" wondered the wanderer uncomfortably. He squinted at the distance, attempting to make out any possible threats.

"When we rest at a bonfire, enemies don't dare to attack us. They also re-spawn whenever we rest, so in theory they should be grounded at their posts," assured Sofia, removing an Estus Flask from her pocket and sipping it slowly.

"If you say so..." replied Lon'qu. He rested his right hand on his sheath in the case of an emergency.

She studied his defensive position and laughed. "If you're really that worried, I'll ask Umbra to keep an eye out for us."

"Who?" asked John puzzled.

"Why the crow of course!" responded Sofia in amazement. "He has to have a name, doesn't he?"

Emma grinned. She had always considered Sofia's optimism and happiness to be quite strange, yet refreshing, during such dark times. She was grateful to have a friend like her and promised herself that she wouldn't let any harm befall her ally.

Their conversations that night consisted of talks of home, their escape of the asylum, food, the stars and, most importantly, their plans for the next day. They all fell soundly asleep before long and slept way into the morning.

Sherlock awoke abruptly due to the pressing feeling that he was being watched. His sixth sense hadn't failed him. Blocking out his daylight was a young, dark haired man wearing what appeared to be chain-mail armour. He stared at Sherlock whilst rubbing his unshaven face in thought. Sherlock stared back at him quietly. His eyes rapidly studied the man's appearance. He noticed chinks in his armour, frown lines on his face, cracks in his boots, a small scar behind his right ear, a crestfallen expression: a veteran warrior he decided. He wondered why this man looked at him so, but then remembered his lack of clothing.

The man cleared his throat, "Who are you and what business do you have in the Firelink Shrine?"

"The name is Sherlock Holmes," answered the deprived bluntly.

"Your business," repeated the man surlily, crossing his arms.

Sherlock got to his feet in order to speak levelly with the intruder. At the sound of conversation Sofia stirred and opened her eyes wide to inspect the source of the unknown voice. She felt heat radiating from her left palm and realised that it was cupped around John's hand. He was still deep in sleep, snoring slightly. She slid her hand out of his grasp which caused him to wake up. He was unaware of their hand holding and she decided to keep it that way. They roused the others and soon the man was encircled by four armoured adventurers (and one less so armoured). The trespasser seemed irritated; this was the general side effect of talking to Sherlock for more than one minute.

"Who are you and why do you disturb us?" interrogated Emma. Umbra squawked in the stranger's face menacingly to emphasise Emma's question.

He sighed and took a step back from the bird. "My name is Elric. I recently moved to the Firelink Shrine, because...well...I've lost the courage to fight." He shrugged, unashamed of his cowardice. "Hmph...So what about all of you? Let me guess. Fate of the Undead, right? Well, you're not the first." They waited for him to elaborate. "There's no salvation here. You'd have done better to rot in the Undead Asylum…But, too late now. Well, since you're here… Let me help you out," he laughed somewhat hysterically. John instinctively stepped in front of Sofia.

"There are actually two Bells of Awakening. One's up above, in the Undead Church," he motioned slowly towards the skies. "The other is far, far below, in the ruins at the base of Blighttown." Emma shivered at the mention of that damned place. "Ring them both, and something happens… Brilliant, right? Hah...Not much to go on, I know, but I have a feeling that won't stop you. So, off you go. It is why you came, isn't it? To this accursed land of the Undead? Hah hah hah hah…"

"Er...thanks for the help..." forced Sofia, a little disturbed by his character.

"Hmm...sure. It won't help...we'll all be Hollow before you know it. But who knows, going Hollow could solve quite a bit!" With that, Elric turned to leave them. He strolled down a steep path and disappeared from sight.

Sofia inhaled deeply and shook her head. "We must do this. Not just because it's our only way out of this game but because I promised we'd do so to the knight." She nodded to herself and looked up at the others, who motioned in agreement.

"To the Undead Burg then?" asked Lon'qu.

"To the Undead Burg," repeated Emma and Sofia in unison.


	3. Checkpoint

**Chapter Three: Checkpoint**

An undead's corpse hung in an abandoned well near their bonfire. Above its shrivelled chest orbited a white sphere. The adventurers rushed past, all but one ignoring it. Emma stopped to pillage the soul, catching up with her companions after gaining one humanity. Ahead, behind a withered tree, was a thin ledge covered in stone steps. It snaked around the rocky mountain, leading to a fairly wide cliff edge. Surveying the land they noticed another ledge leading to another cliff edge up above. However the entire vicinity was guarded heavily by undead soldiers.

They burst in to action simultaneously. John sprinted towards the most heavily armoured opponent, stumbling him with a kick in the chest, which allowed for a swift beheading. Sherlock charged at the closest foe, bludgeoning him over the head repeatedly with his blunt weapon, until the poor thing crumbled to the ground. Both fighters dodged the fire bombs that were being thrown at them from above as they dispatched their enemies. Sofia, Emma and Lon'qu had scaled the second ledge, taking on the guards there. As a pyromancer Sofia was more resistant to fire than the others so approached the cowardly creature throwing the bombs. She faked a stance suggesting she would attack from the right, then sliced the undead's flesh from the left with her axe, finishing with an explosion of fire to teach him a lesson. Lon'qu glided towards an axe wielder, slashing at him so quickly that he died before he could lift his weapon. The wanderer spun round eliminating another who hoped he had the opportunity to back stab.

Emma approached the final undead slowly. He was at the very top of a flight of stairs, leading to a small sewer. She proceeded up the thin, steep steps eyeing the last fighter with a mischievous smile. She brandished her dagger menacingly, watching her footing as she approached him. The undead appeared confused for a moment, then charged at the thief, weapons held high. She pounced on him, pulling him into a role and throwing him off the side. The only issue was that she rolled off with him. Lon'qu's jaw dropped as he watched her fall into the distant river below.

"Emma!" he screamed, whilst pacing about in a panicked fashion. He observed his friends' faces and noticed their unimpressed expressions. "Emma...She's gone! Why do you all look so...so...not phased?!" He gestured backwards and forwards at where she had previously been standing and where she had dropped.

"Because she'll re-spawn soon," shrugged Sofia.

"Wh...what?" stammered Lon'qu.

Suddenly all the defeated foes re-spawned around them.

Meanwhile Emma had a re-appeared at the bonfire. She dusted herself off as she got to her feet, scowling as she realised what had happened.

"Oh, your face! You're practically hollow! Hah hah hah hah," mocked Elric who was perched on a small rock beside her. "Huh, what are you looking at? Don't try anything clever. You might regret it."

Emma laughed cockily, considering all the ways she could kill him. Her eyes wandered over a puddle of water by her feet. She peered into it. A shrunken, pink face stared back. She bit her lip to stop herself from swearing.

"How can I reverse it?" she asked Elric brusquely.

"Hm, what? Restoring your humanity? Well, there are a few ways to go about it…Collect it bit by bit from corpses, or you can butter up a cleric, and get yourself summoned. And the quickest way, although I'd never do it, is to kill a healthy Undead, and pillage its humanity. Coveting thy neighbour is only human, after all! Hah hah hah hah…"

Emma growled, "You're lucky I picked up a humanity from that corpse over there or I would be forced to take it from you..." He sensed her hostility, so strolled off into the ruins. The thief raised her right hand and thought about the humanity she had absorbed. The air above her palm formed a black silhouette of a human which glowed white around the edges. She examined it briefly then crushed it with her hand. The essence engulfed her and she watched as her pink, fleshy body formed her chalk white skin. She smiled proudly at her reflection then run through the puddle to meet up with her comrades.

"You finally decided to join us," greeted Sherlock, surrounded by dead bodies. "What possessed you to jump off that ledge anyway?"

"She didn't do it on purpose!" interjected Lon'qu crossly.

"Thanks, but I can speak for myself," she nodded kindly at Lon'qu. Apparently she thought that her glare at Sherlock would suffice as an explanation.

"It doesn't matter. What's done is done," forgave Sofia. "Shall we get going now?"

They retraced their steps up the ledges and cliff edges, reaching the flight of stairs Emma fell from. Emma recovered her souls; she had about 500. But as soon as they were about to enter the small sewer, she stopped them. "Wait! I just remembered something important!" They watched her, some more irritated than others, as she made her way down to the bottom ledge. She positioned herself where the armoured undead was, waved at her friends and then crash rolled onto a lower platform of the aqueduct holding up the sewer. Lon'qu winced as he witnessed her narrowly miss another drop. The stone was being held up by large thick pillars and so she was forced to shimmy across them in order to remain balanced. Once she had reached the other side, she bent down and pillaged a corpse, pulling out a small item.

She returned cheerfully, placing the tiny object on her finger.

"A ring of sacrifice?" asked Sofia, winking at her friend.

"Yup," she smiled, admiring the shiny metal and the magenta-shaded stone.

"Um..." began John.

"Oh, sorry. The ring of sacrifice is a mystical ring created in a sacrificial rite of Velka, the godess of sin. It's enchanted so that that if the wearer dies, they won't lose any of their souls as a consequence," explained Sofia.

"That should serve some use for you then," stated Sherlock, clearly addressing Emma.

"There's another soul over there! Shiny...shiny!" exclaimed Emma, ignoring Sherlock completely.

"The only problem is that the ring breaks after the person dies..." trailed off Sofia as her companion charged towards the 'shiny'. She sighed, chuckling at Emma's playfulness.

"Soul of a lost undead!" squealed Emma from joy. She crushed the white orb, gaining 200 additional souls.

"Wonderful." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Get a move on!"

They entered the dark, wet corridor. Their footsteps echoed as they waded through the filthy water. Luckily, burning torches provided enough light for them to see where they were going. Unluckily, a huge rat skulked behind them. Knowing that it hadn't been detected, it pounced on the adventurer at the back of the line, knocking him over. It was John.

At the sound of splashing, squeaking and screaming, Sofia spun round. As her eyes took in the scene, she felt her face redden, her fists clench and her hair stand on end. The others backed away as she roared, becoming fire itself. The pyromancer grabbed the rat's tail in her blazing fist, burning it immediately. The flames travelled up the rodent's body, coating it in bright blue fire. All the was left was a pile of ash and a white orb. Her eyes burnt crimson, yet her vision was blurry. Her anger dulled as John got to his feet, but her fatigue was too great. Her legs failed her. Black.

"Hmm...John?...rat..." she mumbled as she reclaimed her consciousness. "Rat!" she squeaked, opening her green eyes wide.

"Shhh...I'm here, I'm fine," soothed John, crouching down beside her.

She examined the small scratch marks on his cheek. "Your face...Your..."

"Don't worry about it...I'm fine," he smiled reassuringly.

She rubbed her head as if a migraine had previously invaded it. "What happened?"

"I don't know how to describe it..." struggled John.

"It's as if you caught fire..." helped Emma, still perplexed at the notion. "You saw John...then you became...enraged. I watched as the anger took control of you...your hands...flames burst out and then they surrounded you...You didn't burn though...neither did your robes...you simply became...stronger."

Sofia stared at the rotting, mouldy walls of the sewer, amazed by the account. Had her fury really triggered such power? It was then that she realised how cold she was. Looking down she saw that she was sitting. Her robes were immersed in the unclean water.

"Ugh," she breathed, accepting John's helping hand.

"Don't worry about the water. You can dry off at the next bonfire," suggested Lon'qu.

"True. It's not that far now."

They all thought it fair that Sofia pillaged the rat's soul; it contained one humanity. She also found another soul of a lost undead, giving her a total of 750 souls. They quickly exited the sewer through a side exit and a flight of stairs, emerging out into the natural daylight. They found themselves onto a stone courtyard, high above the undead burg village. Barrels littered the floor, both broken and whole. The entire castle complex was huge, yet they had little time to admire it because two undead soldiers were racing towards them.

Emma dodged the first one's attack, hitting it on the head with the butt of her blade. The intense vibrations of his helmet disorientated him, causing him to fall backwards into the other one. They tumbled to the ground just before Sherlock sent their brains flying with his club.

"Hey! They were mine!" Emma scorned.

"Too slow..." sneered Sherlock, wiping the blood of his enemies on his loincloth.

"Ewww..." uttered Emma with disgust, averting her eyes as quickly as humanely possible.

"Look over there!" Sofia was pointing at a small bridge behind them. She gestured towards a floating soul at the end of the structure. "Give me a second..." She ran towards a broken part of the bridge, grabbed onto it and hauled herself up. Within seconds she had returned with another humanity.

"Here you go, John," she smiled up at him shyly, handing him the humanity. "I've already got one, after all."

"Tha-"

"Why didn't you give it to me?!" bellowed the deprived.

"Sherlock!" shout whispered Emma, grabbing him by the ear and dragging him away. Lon'qu 's jaw dropped slightly, but then thought it wise to follow.

"Thanks," finished John gratefully. He fiddled with his fingers as he grinned at her. She beamed back at him, her right foot rubbing the back of her left.

"Umm...heh heh." They gazed into each others eyes, unable to speak.

"FRESH BLOOD!"

This broke the spell. They ran in the direction of the war cry, finding Sherlock, Emma, Lon'qu and dead undead everywhere. Broken fire bombs, limbs, weapons, armour, barrels and crates cluttered their surroundings. They gave each other silent looks of understanding; now wasn't the time for building relationships.

The five transversed a white mist into a small moss-covered building. Behind a collection of small archways was another soul of a lost undead, which Sherlock insisted on collecting; he now had 960 souls. A flight of stairs, then another, led them back out into the fresh air.

A long thin stony bridge lay before them. Sherlock pushed forwards smugly, attempting to lead.

A giant blood red dragon swooped down out of thin air, using the bridge as a stepping stone to propel itself back into the sky. It's mere foot was double the width of the bridge and the impact caused it to shake dangerously, sending shards flying.

"Smaug?" inquired Sherlock under his breath.

"What?..." Sofia glanced slowly at Emma. "That's the Hellkite dragon."

"Oww!" A sharp bolt had pierced Sherlock's undefended flesh. A second flew past John's ear.

"Up there!" Lon'qu motioned at the horizon, where a small figure was wielding a large wooden crossbow.

"John?"

"On it!" He slalomed around three guards, ignoring their pathetic swings, and climbed more steps towards the perpetrator. He ducked under it's bow, slicing its knees as he did so. The archer fell, as expected, but pushed John back with his weapon. The warrior counter attacked, slicing the creature's neck. During this time, the others dealt with the guards. Sofia charged up her fireballs, dealing massive damage. Emma tripped them up, Sherlock struck fear into their hearts and Lon'qu finished them off. Perfect teamwork. They re-grouped and searched the area, collecting a wooden shield from a small balcony.

Sherlock claimed the upgrade. He held the tall shield out, examining the beautiful white dragon decorating the front. He threw his plank shield over the edge as they climbed up the steps where the archer was.

"Look! Checkpoint!" Sofia was correct. To their left, over a wooden board acting as a makeshift bridge, was a huge archway leading to a cosy-looking room. In the very centre was an unlit bonfire.

They breathed sighs of relief as the pyromancer lit the fire.


	4. Relative Morality

**Chapter Four: Relative Morality**

The travellers decided it would be wise to replenish their energies by resting the night at their new bonfire. Their sleep was peaceful and refreshing but when morning arrived they realised quite how hungry they were. Sofia suggested they drink some of their Estus flasks for breakfast, but the others argued that they would run out of their supplies too quickly this way and that if they needed them for an emergency, they would have none.

"Well, that's where our humanity comes in," smirked Sofia intelligently. Before her companions had the time to ask what she meant, she bent down by the fire, produced the humanity she was carrying and let the flames absorb it. After two seconds of intense silence, the flames spat out five more Estus flasks.

"Woah, how did you do that?" asked John, intrigued. He stared at the flasks with his mouth half open.

"She kindled the fire," explained Emma, grabbing one of the flasks. She took a sip whilst closing her eyes. "Hmmm...tastes like mango juice..."

"Oh. Really?" spurned John. "I'm not a fan of... mango." He brought one of the dark green bottles to his nose. "Green tea?" He dubiously placed the neck of the bottle to his lips and sipped a little bit of the orange liquid. "Ah..." he sighed, pleased by the flavour. "Perfection..."

"Interesting..." mused Lon'qu. "Let me try... It tastes like... like... cabbage stew!" He smiled to himself quietly as he savoured the magical drink.

"What about you two?" asked John, referring to Sofia and Sherlock. "What does it taste like for you?"

Sofia passed a bottle to Sherlock, who hesitantly accepted it. "Well, mine changes depending on my mood," replied Sofia, "...but right now it tastes like..."

"Mrs Hudson's tea and biscuits," interrupted Sherlock. "Oh, how I do miss Baker Street..."

The others looked at him pitifully. Sherlock admitting to such emotions?... That was quite unheard of.

"Don't worry Sherlock," chirped Sofia, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. She retracted her arm after acknowledging the weird gesture. "Uh...we'll be out of this game before you know it!"

"Humph...After being killed multiple times, of course," he responded morbidly. The flask almost shattered in his strong grip. John carefully removed it from his grasp. They sat in muteness for a while, unsure of what to do next.

"You know what?" proposed Sofia whilst walking over to the exit. "I know that there's a merchant near by. We have enough souls now... why don't we have a look at his wares? We might find something useful..."

"Good idea," agreed Lon'qu, getting to his feet.

They left their comfortable camp behind them as they exited the building. The crossbow wielder had spawned facing away from them, so Emma managed to perform a swift back stab before the hollows below had noticed. Once they had, they dashed towards the group, brandishing their weapons. However, one tripped over its own feet just as it was about to reach them, falling to its death. Emma waved at it sarcastically, quickly dodging an incoming blow from its friend. She retaliated, elbowing it in the face towards Lon'qu who shield bashed it off the edge to join its partner. They laughed as they watched it flail on its way down.

They descended the small flight of steps to the main platform, taking care of an apparently hidden undead behind rows of wooden planks.

"We just need to turn left here..." instructed Sofia.

"Look at the shields and spears those undead soldiers are wielding," observed John, slightly intimidated.

"Yeah, they're a little trickier to deal with than the whelps we've been fighting," informed Emma.

"I guess we'll take them on one by one then?" strategised Lon'qu, searching for any possible faults in their armour.

"That seems like a wise idea," agreed Sherlock. "For it to work though, we need someone to lure them out."

"Nice of you to volunteer, Sherlock," smiled Emma cheekily. "Off you go."

His pride prevented him from refusing, so he became the bait. He approached the soldiers slowly, catching their eyes in the hopes of taunting them. They noticed him, scoffed at his lack of protection and decided he wasn't worth their time. Anger flashed in Sherlock's eyes as he saw their lack of attention. He stormed forwards, swinging his giant club at them in a berserk-like manner, knocking one off its feet. He attacked the other with such force that he managed to break its metal shield. This may not have been their original plan, but now that the soldiers' defences had been lowered, the others joined the fray. Within seconds the assumed tricky troupe had been eliminated.

"I think I'll take this as a souvenir," chuckled Lon'qu picking up the rusty black shield that had been spared from Sherlock's wrath. It shone in the sunlight as the wanderer equipped it.

"Suits you," grinned Emma. He smiled sheepishly, a little embarrassed by the compliment.

"So..." giggled Sofia, trying to change the subject. "Follow me to the vendor." She smashed a pile of crates with her axe, revealing a hidden hole to the building beneath them. She dropped down the gap and the others soon followed her. The room was dark and sparse, containing odd sacks and cracked crates, which they took no notice of as Sofia led them onto an outside balcony.

"Well know..." croaked an old man's voice. They turned to face the undead merchant, who was sitting cross legged to the right of them, surrounded by pots, pans, armour and various other items. "You seem to have your wits about you, hmm? Then you're all welcome customers! I trade for souls. Everything's for sale! Nee hee hee hee hee!" His dirty white head band twitched as he laughed.

"Yes, we've been looking for a merchant. Nice to meet you," strained John, avoiding the pink man's hollow eyes. They fixed onto the warrior in delight, making him shudder.

"I hope you brought plenty of souls!" he exclaimed, obviously happy to have some customers.

"We have a fair amount," confirmed Sofia with a smile. They searched through his supplies, hoping to find some items of use.

"I'd like to buy... 10 fire bombs and 5 throwing knives," declared Emma, carrying the hoard in her arms.

"Nee hee hee! That's 550 souls, my dear!" Emma glowed white momentarily, then the light faded and illuminated the merchant.

"Wonderful! Anything else?"

"I see you're selling what looks like a reinforced club," ascertained Sherlock, comparing it to his current weapon. "I've become rather attached to this type of munition, so I ask you, how much is this upgrade?

"350 souls... heh, heh." The merchant was breathing abnormally heavily from his excitement.

"I'll take it." The deprived glowed white, then did the merchant, who was stroking the air beside him.

"What's that?" asked Sofia, deciding that it was more likely she couldn't see what he was touching than it being nothing.

"Ah, this one? Ain't she lovely? Her name is Yulia. She's plumb in love with me. You'd never leave my side, now would you, Yulia?"

The five looked at each other with mutual understanding; this man was definitely out of his mind.

"Could I stroke her?" joked Emma, approaching the patch of air he was touching.

He pulled back, "Ah, you can forget it. I'm all that she needs. Careful, she'll bite your little fingers off! Be kind, Yulia, be kind! Nee hee hee hee hee!"

"How did you find her?" inquired John, joining in with the ruse.

"Eh? I'm not here to chit-chat. We talk business, or we talk nothing at all!" John bit his lip as the once delighted eyes became dangerously angry.

"Right. Sorry... Um... that short bow... and some standard arrows please." He shifted uncomfortably.

The merchant's dumb smile returned, "Ooh... expensive choice! One bow and 50 arrows. That'll be 1200 souls, my friend! Nee hee hee!"

"What?" John's heart sank at the price. The merchant's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"That's great," assured Sofia, glowing white. John was about to protest but the transaction was already complete. He gave her a strong look of thanks and she nodded back at him smiling, as if it was little trouble.

"Is that armour?!" Sherlock had spotted a fine set of chain mail behind the merchant.

"Oh, yes, hee hee, yes. It's made of strong interlinked rings of steel. Knights may favour flashy armour but, on the battlefield, anything is good as long as it keeps the wearer alive. Nee hee hee... Looks like you could use some." Emma and Sofia glanced at each other. "Pricey equipment... but you all seem like rich folk..." He almost drooled from his exhilaration. "2300 souls! Nee hee hee!" On impulse, Emma grabbed the equipment and lobbed it over the balcony. Sherlock stared at her in astonishment.

"Oi! You've gone mad, have you!? I'll teach you! You lousy rat! Yulia! Yulia!" The merchant stumbled to his feet, drawing his sword. A flash of metal and he lay defeated on his pots. Lon'qu wiped the undead's blood on his sleeve and looked up at Emma. "You're action was bizarre and somewhat disturbing and although I don't understand your intent, it was wrong of him to dare lay a finger on you." He blinked at her then bent down to pillage the corpse. She stared at him in shock as he rummaged around the man's body. An angered expression was frozen on the merchant's face as Lon'qu withdrew a beautiful katana, a residence key, an orange guidance soap stone and one humanity.

"Shall we just forget this ever happened?" suggested Sofia, shuffling towards the entrance to the building.

"Wait." Lon'qu unsheathed his scimitar and presented it to Emma. She covered her mouth with her hand as she struggled for words. "I want you to have this. I saw how you looked at it when I first wielded it. So...here." She picked up the sword in both her hands, examining the stunning curved blade.

"Th...Thank you, Lon'qu. I... I don't know how to repay you..." she blushed, staring at her boots. He smiled with her reaction, holding his new weapon in both his hands.

"Sofia, what's the story behind this blade?" he requested, admiring it.

"The Uchigatana was forged in an eastern land. It's known for its brisk slashing motions and its ability to inflict extra bleed damage. As you can see, it's very sharp but the blade can easily be nicked."

"I'll take care of it," he promised, putting away the two-hander in its leather bound sheath.

"It's been quite a day. Should we return to our bonfire?" yawned John.

"Good idea."


	5. Good Knight

**Chapter Five: Good Knight**

"Thanks again... for your aid, back there," expressed John, inspecting his new wooden bow happily.

"No problem, John," she grinned, juggling a couple fireballs.

"Be careful there, pyromancer," winked Lon'qu, polishing his Uchigatana with the merchant's headband, "You might just burn something down with those."

"I'll try not to," she laughed sarcastically, her eyes quickly flashing towards Sherlock.

"Speaking of Sherlock..." started John slowly, "Why did you chuck that perfectly good armour off that ledge, Emma?"

The thief looked down at them from a set of smashed stairs, pausing for thought. When no explanation came, she simply looked away, studying her throwing knives instead.

"It's almost like..." began Lon'qu, but decided to drop the matter, returning to his katana.

"Like she wants me to be vulnerable, easy to kill," completed Sherlock, his voice echoing with disdain.

"Any way..." exhaled John, attempting to lighten the tension he accidentally created. "Sofia... Do we only use... the... er... souls we collect for... purchasing items from creepy merchants?... ha..."

Sofia cleared her throat and extinguished her fireballs, "That's one use... Yes... You see, as we collect souls, we automatically get stronger in our chosen fields. There are eight official stats that can increase through levelling: vitality; determining your maximum health, attunement; the number of spells you know, endurance; maximum stamina, how much you can carry and your bleed resist..."

John watched her in wonder as she went on, "strength; which allows you to wield heavier weapons more effectively... dexterity; increases casting speed of spells and allows you to wield dexterity based weapons, like daggers, bows etc. more effectively... er... resistance; basically your physical, fire and poison defence, intelligence; increases the power of sorcerer's catalysts and allows for more complex spells to be used... and finally, faith; increases the power of talismans and allows for complex miracles to be performed." She took a deep breath and smiled.

"Wow... ha," his mind was whirling with all the things she had just taught him. "Wow... so all of those things get better as we gain more souls?"

"Well... sort of... because I'm the only magic wielder, my faith and intelligence stats will increase when yours may not... and Emma's dexterity skill will increase much more than Sherlock's, because his weapon is more dependent on strength... if that makes any sense..."

"Yeah... wow," he gazed at her, mesmerised, "You're so clever..." Sherlock gave him a sharp glare.

Emma leapt off the steps, landing directly behind John. "Shall we go collect some souls, then?

Begrudgingly, the deprived got to his feet and exited the building. He whacked the crossbow wielder in the back with his reinforced club, sending it flying into the armoured undead below. Sofia finished them off with her pyromancer flame as they turned to face a thin, stone bridge on the other side.

"Look up there." Lon'qu directed their eyes to three armoured undead standing on a tiled roof to their left. The soldiers had spotted the group and proceeded to toss fire bombs in their general direction. The explosives shattered violently on the bridge, forming tall plumes of fire. "We're going to have to be careful."

"Agreed." Sofia dashed across the stone structure, stopping at the entrance to a small brick building. Unexpectedly, she was ambushed from the left by an undead, who knocked her over with its metal shield. Her companions ran to her aid, cutting the hollow down as she kicked its axe wielding friend to the floor. Emma ran to her, impaling another undead beside her with its own weapon.

"Sorry," Sofia apologised, wiping the sweat from her brow. "I need to remember I'm not invincible."

"Don't worry about it," pardoned John kindly. "Where does that lead?" he requested pointing at a black cage door, covered in ivy.

"To the lower undead burg. It can only be opened from the other side, though."

"I see. I guess we'll be passing through it at a later point in time?"

"Yes, but not in the near future."

They left out of a wooden door next to the original entrance, walking out onto a tiled platform with yet another cottage like building to their right. Sofia led them inside, quickly scorching a weak undead alongside some tables and chairs. Lon'qu sensed another presence, discovering a hiding hollow behind a wall. He returned to them once it was taken care of.

"Look, a chest!" cried Emma, running into another room. She returned with five black fire bombs sticking out of her satchel.

"Fantastic," grinned Lon'qu. "They look stronger than the average fire bomb."

"They are," assured Emma, smirking at the thought of all the undead she could terminate with the explosives.

They returned to the platform, taking a long set of stairs up to a higher courtyard. Three feeble hollows were primed and ready to attack them, wasting no time to plan their onslaught. They charged, but much to their disappointment, were killed in a matter of seconds.

"Up there, the three hollows that were throwing fire bombs at us," pointed out Lon'qu.

"Let's teach them a lesson," jeered Emma, whilst playing with one of her fire bombs. She held a throwing knife between her teeth as she stealthily climbed the red ladder to the rooftop. The thief flung the blade towards the back of the neck of an undead closest to her, killing it instantly. She rolled to the right, dodging an incoming fire bomb and gave the last two a taste of their own medicine. Her black fire bomb burnt them both to the ground, allowing her to pick up the soul of a lost undead behind them with ease. She chuckled to herself as she returned, putting the three bombs she had pillaged from their bodies into her satchel. "Child's play."

Behind them was a locked house, which Lon'qu opened using the residence key he had picked up off the merchant. "Must have been his house..." he guessed, wandering inside. The room was dull, containing smashed wooden tables, chairs and cupboards littered with pots and pans. The whole place was overgrown by moss. Beside a fire place coated in cobwebs and dust, was a small door leading to an outside porch. "Looks like there's another chest out here," he called back to Emma. A huge grin spread across her face as she laid eyes on it. "Mine."

She stopped dead in her tracks as she spotted four heavily armoured undead below the balcony. Their eyes were fixed on her. "Hmm... John?" she smirked, examining the hollows' armour. "Want to give your new weapon a shot?"

He ran out with his bow in hand, attracting their full attention. Sofia stood beside him, her hands blazing, "Don't worry," she smiled, "I'll back you up." He drew an arrow, pointing it at the closest foe, as Emma distracted the soldiers with fire bombs. He inhaled deeply, squinting to enhance his focus. Three... Two... One... The arrow flew straight into the hollow's heart, piercing its back and penetrating the flesh of the hollow directly behind it. They sunk to the ground, dropping their weapons. "Wow, two birds with one stone," commented Emma, impressed by his accuracy.

"Afghanistan," he explained, shooting down another soldier. Sofia nodded in understanding as she propelled a sphere of fire at the last enemy. She straightened herself out a little and complemented John on his archery. He smiled proudly at her, pleased to be of use.

"Hey, Emma," he called over, "I think it's safe enough to search the chest now."

She cracked her knuckles as she approached the wooden box. Its lid creaked open on its hinges invitingly, revealing three gold pine resins.

"Enchantments!" squealed Sofia with delight. "And electric ones at that! Wonderful! Mind if I carry them, Emma?"

"Not at all," her friend replied, passing them over.

"How can they be used?" inquired Sherlock, displeased at the fact he didn't already possess the answer.

"You simply rub one onto your weapon, enchanting it with an element, which makes it more powerful. These ones inflict rare lightning damage, which is effective against targets who are resilient to both magic and fire. It's also very powerful against dragons. Unfortunately it does not last indefinitely, wearing off after one minute, but the extra damage can be very useful in difficult situations." She packed them away in her pouch. "Better safe these for later."

They strolled back through the merchant's house, leaving his front door open. A bolt whistled past John's shoulder as he exited. He instinctively drew an arrow and shot it in the incoming direction. It hit the archer straight on the nose, causing him to tumble off his tower from the impact.

"Well done," complimented Sofia as she watched the hollow fall towards the lower undead burg. "That just leaves the Black Knight."

"The... what?" swallowed John, automatically assuming it wasn't any old undead.

"The Black Knights," repeated Sofia gravely. "They were the once proud knights of Gwyn, that travelled with him to the Kiln of the First Flame, but were burnt by the hot ashes. Now these mighty armoured soldiers roam Lordran. They are fiercely powerful and dangerous, especially to low-levelled fighters, like us." She paused momentarily, "But they don't re-spawn after being killed, which I guess is a blessing."

"They don't sound that pleasant... is there anything else we should know about them?" asked Lon'qu, attempting to imagine the horrors she described.

"Yes. The Black Knights have a tendency to chase their enemies for a far longer duration than most. As well as this, a fact that I find very unnerving is that resting at a bonfire will not reset the Black Knight once it's already chasing you. Therefore, once you've dared to oppose it, you must kill it or be killed..." She noticed her companions' worried expressions. "But don't worry! I have a plan that uses these seeming disadvantages to our advantage."

"I... trust your strategies," expressed John, forcing the nightmarish images of the Black Knights out of his mind.

"As do I," concurred Lon'qu. "What's the plan, pyromancer?"

Once Sofia had explained her idea and the others had accepted it, they began setting up. Emma was to be the bait and the others were to wait on the rooftops where the fire bomb throwers were. The thief would lure the knight out to the others, climbing the ladder to safety before it caught her. They would then throw fire bombs, pyromancy flames and knives at it, performing plunge attacks when it became weak enough, finishing it off.

"Sherlock, climb the ladder," insisted John, waiting patiently behind him.

"My role in this plan is minuscule... I don't even have any explosives to throw at it. What am I meant to do? Simply watch?" he complained, crossing his arms.

It pained Emma to be forced to do this, but she offered him one of her fire bombs, which he happily claimed. Anything to stop him from whining, she thought.

"Happy now, Sherlock? Now climb the ladder."

He placed his right foot on the red ladder, proceeding with his left. A breeze appeared to be forming in the air. His right foot again, then his left. The wind was getting stronger, blowing his dark hair into his face. Right. Left. The others watched as the gale was becoming more potent. His only item of clothing was flapping furiously, endeavouring to escape and soar into the skies. It did.

"Sherlock!" shrieked John in shock. He stumbled backwards, trying to find Sofia's eyes with his hands. She had automatically shut them herself, lest she should gag from the sight.

"My man, sheath that sword," cried Lon'qu horrified. He turned his face away, trying to identify Emma's location. She was standing behind him, snickering.

"Is your club trying to compensate for something!" she howled over the wind, holding her stomach from laughter. Sofia sniggered at Emma's remark, her eyes still shut tightly, but the men simply gaped at the situation, none of them knowing what to do.

Sherlock was contemplating dropping down into the lower undead burg, killing himself so that he could re-spawn with his loincloth at the bonfire, but John caught his eye. "Don't you dare! Killing all those undead took a lot of time and effort. No. Don't. Don't jump!" Sherlock saw his worried expression and sighed.

"Wait! John?" spoke Sofia, her eyes closed by his hand. "Get him one of the undead's waist cloths!"

John and Lon'qu looked at each other, wondering why that idea hadn't crossed their minds. They agreed that it was the shock of the moment, preventing them from thinking clearly. Sherlock was soon kitted up and ready to go. He took this opportunity to equip a set of hollow soldier armour and a helm to match the waist cloth, which Emma didn't seem too pleased about.

"I prefer this to my loincloth," confirmed Sherlock, smiling smugly at Emma.

She turned and ran in the direction of the Dark Knight, forcing the others to scramble up onto the roof top. A couple minutes past as they waited, armed with their weapons. A small dark figured appeared behind the merchant's abode; Emma in her thief's armour. Following closely behind was a Black Knight double her size. His armour shone an onyx shade and his face was completely hidden under a slim horned helmet. His neck was adorned with spikes and his equipment seemed impenetrable. Every stride caused the ground below Emma to tremble, but her speed and light armour allowed her to climb to the rooftop before his giant sword could reach her.

The Knight grumbled to itself as it examined the ladder, trying to decide whether it could scale it. Sofia held her breath, praying that it wouldn't. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, it turned, marching down a flight of steps to reach the other side of the building, just as the pyromancer had planned. She released her breath, shuffling to the other side quietly.

"There he is," she whispered to the others, pointing at his location. "Now!" she yelled, throwing fireballs at the knight's helmet, forcing him to look up. Emma tossed her knives into his face, extracting mild sounds of irritation for it. It roared, struggling to find a way to attack them from below. Sherlock threw his fire bomb, missing the knight completely. It ran towards the explosion, hoping that it could attack something. Realising that it was nothing, he returned to face them, growling with frustration.

Sofia continued to throw fire, but it didn't seem to do very much. She persisted, encouraging Emma to use her fire bombs. The thief soon ran out of her standard explosives, switching to her black fire bombs. The knight scurried across the ground like an ant, searching for a way up to them. Once Sofia and Emma had exhausted their supplies, the Knight did appear weakened. At least three quarters of its health had been diminished.

"Now it's time for the plunge attack!" screamed Sofia, motioning towards Lon'qu. He unsheathed his uchigatana and raised it above his head, eyeing the knight carefully. It stood still, staring at him in confusion. He plunged, his sword penetrating the knight's helmet and head. It shook him off as best it could with a katana through its brain. The Black Knight's eyes expressed his rage, but he had been defeated. The mini boss crumbled into a pile of ash, which was blown away by the wind, leaving behind a floating orb.

The five cheered at their achievement, complimenting Sofia on her battle strategy as they got to the ground and surrounded the orb.

"You should pillage it," directed Lon'qu, smiling at Sofia. "Without you, the Dark Knight would probably have slaughtered us." The others agreed, eager to see what the Knight had dropped.

She approached the soul, placing her hand inside, She drew out a beautiful jet black sword and a titanite shard. "Wow," she gasped, holding the blade in both her hands. "We truly have been blessed." She felt its weight and could sense its strength.

"Good thing none of us were sliced by that monster," remarked John, examining the weapon. "Otherwise it's most likely that we would have been killed on strike."

"True," agreed Sofia. "This sword is way too heavy for me to wield, so I think you should John." She noticed Sherlock's riled expression. "Sherlock's dexterity skill is too low, Emma and I don't have the strength to wield it and Lon'qu already has a beautiful weapon. It seems only right that you take it. You're the only one who can put it to good use."

John picked it up in his right hand. It was heavy, but he was strong enough to wield it efficiently one handedly. He practised slashing motions with the beast of weapon, laughing with its power.

"It's wonderful," he smiled, sheathing it in the sheath tied to his back.

"It's almost triple the strength of your longsword, John," Emma grinned. "Oh and by the way, when I was luring out the knight, I noticed a soul behind it. I didn't have enough time to pillage it, so I think we should go check it out now."

They followed her down the dark passageway the knight was lurking in before. At the end was indeed a soul, which Emma pulled a ring from.

"A blue tearstone ring," identified Sofia, examining the sapphire gem.

"What's it's enchantment?" requested Sherlock, taking a fancy to the metal.

"It boosts the wearer's defence by 50% when their health is under 20%."

"I'll be taking that then." He plucked it out of her hands and placed it on his finger with pride.

"Fantastic," smirked Emma, looking out onto the horizon. "This area has been cleared. Now all that's left is the boss."

The men stared at each other with their mouths wide open.


	6. Bottled Lightning

**Chapter Six: Bottled Lightning**

"Boss!?" exclaimed John and Lon'qu in unison. "What about the...?"

"Knight? Yes, I thought this might be the case," interjected Sherlock. The other men stared at him, waiting for an explanation. "Oh, it's quite simple logic, really. If you had been listening to our pyromancer from the beginning, you would understand." He smiled to himself, forgetting that they wanted him to elaborate.

"Don't do that," sighed John with irritation.

"Do what?" inquired Sherlock, puzzled.

"The look."

"Look?"

"You are doing the look again."

"Well I can't see it, can I?" the accused smirked cleverly. John motioned towards the reflection in his warrior's armour. Sherlock was still confused, "That's my face."

"Yes, and it's doing a thing. You're doing a 'We all know what's really going on here'-face." The others bit their lips as the two continued.

"Well, we do."

"No, Lon'qu and I don't, which is why I find 'The face' so annoying."

"When we first arrived in the ghastly world of Dark Souls, Sofia told us something important."

"Well, go on then," urged John impatiently.

"'We must transverse the white light... Sometimes bosses lurk behind them'. There, you see now? What we just fought, the Black Knight, was simply a sub boss, not the main one, because it wasn't behind a mist door." He stared at John, expecting his answer to have been evident from the beginning.

"I see," he grumbled, annoyed that it had taken so long to extract this information from Sherlock.

Lon'qu cleared his throat awkwardly, "So... er... Emma. What boss are we going to be up against?"

"The Taurus Demon. It's a large bestial creature wielding a massive great-axe. As you might have guessed, it's not very pleasant."

"Ok. Sofia, do you know if it has any weaknesses?"

"Well, we're in luck," she grinned, igniting her hands. "It's susceptible to fire and lighting attacks." She removed the gold pine resin from her satchel and showed it to them. "We have three of these, so one of us can enchant their weapon with it."

"Why not use all of them?" asked John, examining the glowing powder.

"It's a rare treasure, John," explained the thief. "We don't want to use it all on a low-levelled boss."

"Ah, right," he lowered his head, embarrassed by his naivety.

"It was a perfectly valid question," reassured Sofia. He smiled up at her gratefully, his cheeks blushing ever so slightly. "Therefore," continued the strategist sheepishly, "I think you, John, should enchant your sword." She interrupted Sherlock before he had even begun to complain," Your club, Mr Holmes, is not suitable for a plunge attack and that is what we are relying on to defeat this monster. Isn't that what you want?"

Sherlock averted his eyes and remained silent. The setting sun had suddenly become very interesting to him.

"Besides, your new black knight's sword is the strongest of all our weapons, John. It makes sense that it should be the weapon to be enchanted."

"I agree with Sofia's judgement," expressed Emma, putting an arm around her friend affectionately.

"Then it shall be so," confirmed Lon'qu, nodding. "Let's get going."

Before them was a long set of broken steps, leading to a wide circular tower. At the very top was an undead, poised with a wooden cask.

"What's he doing?" asked John, studying the soldier's unnerving smile.

"It looks like he wants to knock us off the stairs by throwing down the barrel," observed Sherlock.

"Look, he's setting fire to it!"

The flaming wood raced down the steps as they sprinted away. It rebounded off the stone wall and soared off the side, down into the lower Undead burg. They had managed to avoid it all together, causing the perpetrator to start fidgeting nervously. He knew his time was up. A couple angry fireballs later he lay scorched on the mouldy stone. They proceeded up the steps, leading to a virtually empty platform.

"So, there are two possible paths we can take, correct? The spiral staircase to the next platform or that black door leading to the basement."

Emma gestured towards the door, "However, unlocking that with my master key will lead to another sub boss: Havel the Rock and he, my friends, is no picnic."

Sofia nodded in agreement, "He's very difficult to defeat. He wields a dragon's tooth..."

"A Dragon's tooth? Seriously?" cried Lon'qu in disbelief.

"Unfortunately, it's true," continued the pyromancer. "It's a huge tooth, about as tall as him, that he uses as a hammer. It can't be broken, because it's harder than stone and to top it all off, it grants him a resistance to magic and fire. That's obviously not very helpful for us. Furthermore, he wears an impenetrable set of armour and carries a great shield, so his defence is legendary."

"Is there any point in attempting to kill him then?"

"Well, seeing as one strike of his dragon's tooth can kill us out right, I would say no. However, if he is killed, he drops the 'Havel's ring' item. It raises the wearer's maximum equipment burden by 50%, which, to be perfectly honest, is not very useful to us at this stage in time."

"The staircase to the next platform it is then."

The upper platform, harbouring the mist wall, was littered with rope covered barrels. Emma unsheathed her scimitar unexpectedly and started hacking them to pieces.

"What are you doing? You'll scuff your sword!" cringed Lon'qu running up behind her.

Her focus was so strong that she didn't even notice his warning. Sounds of cracking wood echoed in the tower, as the wanderer watched, his jaw open wide. Suddenly, a small animal scuttled out of the pile of barrel shards.

"Sofia!"

She was already on the case, crushing the colourful creature with her axe. A white soul hovered over her weapon. She pulled out some metal fragments as the others surrounded her.

"What... was that?" stammered Lon'qu.

"A crystal lizard," stated Emma, wiping her brow. She sheathed her curved sword as she justified her rampage. "They're rare reptiles with gems in their backs. When spotted, they attempt to flee by burrowing in the ground. That's why I needed to concentrate. If you kill them fast enough, they drop upgrade material."

"In this case, it dropped a twinkling titanite, a large titanite shard and a titanite chunk," analysed Sofia, putting them in her satchel.

"All of those shards are uncommon and so it's worth searching for the lizards. The only downside is that they don't re spawn after being killed."

"Well, now that that's been taken care of, I guess the boss is next." decided Sherlock.

"Yeah, it's right through that mist."

The party urged towards the glowing wall, hearts pounding as they anticipated the beast ahead. An old stone bridge awaited them on the other side. The edges were bordered by crenelations as it curved out to a circular watchtower. The monster, however, was no where to be seen. Emma took a couple slow steps forwards, studying the dislodged bricks beside the broken walls. Her eyes hovered over the entire length of the bridge, including the tower, but no answers concerning the boss's whereabouts became apparent to her. The others searched with her, just as confused as she was. The thief furrowed her brow as she sensed footsteps up above. Pivoting swiftly on her heel she turned, catching a glimpse of two undead on the roof of the tower behind them. Without a word to her companions she sprinted towards a blood red ladder to her left. By the time the others had realised what was happening the undead where 'un' no more. The others followed her up, ignoring the two archers bleeding out on the rocks.

"This is where we will perform the plunge attacks," she motioned towards a severely damaged ledge, pointing towards the bridge.

"Not wanting to sound stupid..."

"But I'm sure you'll inevitable sound so..." murmured Sherlock, gazing at the dull clouds.

"Hmm..." continued John, a little insulted. "I just wanted to ask: am I missing something?" Sherlock was about to open his mouth again but John rattled his words off quickly, "I mean, but where even is this 'large bestial creature' anyway? I can't be the only one 'not seeing' it, can I?" He awaited an answer, hoping that he was quite sane to do so.

"It is odd that it hasn't made an appearance," mused Sofia, crossing her arms.

"I'm pretty sure that it's just waiting to be lured out," shrugged Sherlock, insisting that there was nothing more to it than that. "Perhaps he wants to know what he's going up against and is watching us from that tower over there."

"Seems perfectly strategic," agreed Lon'qu, unsheathing his uchigatana. "But that means we require bait, correct?" He smirked at Sherlock, who shot back an expression of utter refusal. "You are the lightest of us all, deprived..."

"And you're weapon won't contribute to the plunge attacks so you have little reason to be standing up here with us..." added Emma, enjoying the conversation.

"Yes, but I've done it before."

"As have I," she batted her eye lids at him in an act of fake innocence.

"That silly trick won't work on me, girl," responded Sherlock coldly. Lon'qu instinctively brandished his uchigatana as they stared hard at each other.

"Hey! Stop it!" shouted Sofia, stepping between them with her arms held high. "We are a team and so we discuss tactics fairly. Hmm? We will take it in turns to undertake the less glamorous roles, ok? I can't have you risking the strength of our group by hating each other. I will be the one to lure him out."

"But..."

"I don't want to witness any arguing, you hear? It's my decision to tempt him out – we would be here all day otherwise. Now John, hold your sword out." She sprinkled the gold pine resin on the onyx blade, enchanting it with the power of lightning. "You stand here... in the middle... Lon'qu, guard the left... Emma, the right. Sherlock... stand where ever you please as long as you inflict some damage. Are we all ready then?" Her companions were silenced by her explosion of commands, but they were all secretly grateful that she was in control.

They stood guard, holding their breaths, as she slid down the ladder and sprinted towards the opposite tower. It felt like she was running for an eternity as their hearts began to beat faster, their bodies shaking from nervousness.

"Where is it?" muttered John impatiently. He had a horrible sinking feeling that his pyromancer wouldn't return to the roof in time.

"Any second now..." whispered Emma beside him. She squeezed the hilt of her knife as they waited for its appearance.

"There!"

A deafening crash vibrated the bridge as the beast pounced off the distant tower. The impact sent Sofia flying backwards into the rubble.

"Sofia!" shrieked John, panic engulfing him. Emma and Lon'qu grabbed his shoulders firmly, forcing him back.

"What are you doing? Are you insane?!" He struggled in their grip as he watched their beast bait get to her feet. "Run, Sofia! Run!"

Her vision was blurry but her muscles obeyed, regardless of the searing pain in her thigh.

"I've got to help her!" screamed John pushing the others back frantically.

"You've got the enchantment, warrior," reminded Lon'qu, holding him down. "She'll be fine."

John was furious at their insensitivity, but his anger had triggered a pounding headache. He squinted at the small figure floating towards him. Feeling dazed he lay a hand on his forehead, trying desperately to lock his vision on his pyromancer.

"John! I'm here! I'm ok." He snapped back to reality as she clambered up the ladder.

"Sofia..."

"No time," rushed Emma as she dived off the edge. She sunk her knife into the beast's face right before Lon'qu joined her. The creature's roars shook the tower as he attempted to shake the stabbers off his head. Emma let out a yelp as she was almost thrown off the side of the bridge. "Hurry up, up there!" she cried, her fingers sliding down the boss' thick horns.

Sherlock noticed John's stunned expression and handed him an Estus Flask. "Give it to her quickly, if it will make you relax!" With that he charged of the side, his club held high and his lungs producing a bellowing war cry. A blunt smack was heard from below as he made contact. The Taurus demon had had enough. It picked up the deprived's body in its beefy fist and shook him up and down rapidly.

"Hey! Put him down...pig!" yelled Sofia from above. Its cloudy white eyes fixed upon her as she threw a couple of fireballs in its face. The flames coated its chestnut fur, burning it black in an instant. A loud thud signified the release of Sherlock, along with Emma and Lon'qu who were tossed over the beast's shoulder. She continued to propel pyromancy, ignoring the target's throaty growls.

"Sofia, watch out!" John ran into her, hauling the unexpecting girl into his arms. His motive was made clear when the demon was suddenly on the same platform as them. By the time this had all occurred, the others had healed and were making their way up the ladder to join them.

"John! You need to finish him off!" called Sofia as she circled the giant, burning his body whenever she had an opening.

He placed both shaking hands on the hilt of his sword eyeing the monster before him. 'It looks awfully intimidating at this angle', he thought. 'But I must do this. For our companionship... For our freedom... For Sofia!' He charged valiantly at the tired foe, dodging its incoming blows. His eyes were set on its ugly heart. 'Nothing else matters. Nothing can stand in my way. Nothing can... wait a minute...' He hung from his sword which was lodged deeply into the Taurus demon's chest. It gave him a final look of resentment as it began to crumble into a pile of ash. He plopped gracefully onto the ground as his eyes widened. There, in front of him, was a floating white orb.

"You did it! You did it, John!" exclaimed Sofia, giving him an instinctive hug. She pulled back almost immediately after acknowledging her action.

"Hmm..." Emma grinned as she watched the two blush awkwardly. "What's in the soul, Bottled Lightning?" She winked at him, quite proud of her nickname creativity.

"Er... heh..." He swirled his hand around in the mist. "Um... One humanity, a homeward bone and... whoa, I might need a little help with this one!" It took all of them (minus the always non-participating Sherlock) to haul the weapon out.

"Looks like the demon's great-axe," guessed Lon'qu as they laid it on the ground. "It's huge! Which one of us is going to wield it. I mean... which one of us actually has the strength to wield it?!"

"Hm," Sherlock scoffed, strolling towards the beast of an axe. He ran his fingers over the monstrous bones that formed it, mentally calculating the possibilities... "Perhaps not now..." he decided, wrapping his hands around the huge hilt. "But once my strength has increased... I shall be the one to wield it."


End file.
